


Grief

by hangtoughnkotb



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Flashbacks, Gen, M/M, Mike needs a hug, Neutral Ending, Reddie, Richie needs a hug, Sad, Short Story, moping, not much happiness, sonia isn’t that bad??, the smallest inkling of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-08-24 14:49:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16642295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hangtoughnkotb/pseuds/hangtoughnkotb
Summary: Richie Tozier can’t seem to let go of Eddie Kaspbrak





	1. ↝ stage 1 ↜

The stages of mitosis go through one ear and out the other as Richie Tozier stares at the desk next to him. It's empty and he can't help but ask himself why. Eddie loves Science, probably more than he loves Richie but he's not here.

The raven-haired boy thinks of all the possible places his boyfriend could be. His mother probably could've picked him up, too paranoid to leave him in school for more than thirty seconds but half of school had turned to past. So, why now?

Eddie doesn't ditch either, he's too into school to do that. He'd only ditch for Richie, but he's sitting in class right now.

Suddenly, there's an itch in his mind. Richie ignores it though, he's been ignoring it for awhile now and he'll continue until it goes away. _You_ _can't_ _be_ _with_ _him_ _anymore_. _Let_ _him_ _go,_ _Rich_.

Richie feels his fingernails dig into his palms, while the skin begs him not to break through but he doesn't listen, knowing the pain is better than accepting the truth.

He immediately stops however, when the bell echoes through the halls of Derry high. While the other students race out of the class without a bother to what Mr. Peters' says about the homework, Richie grunts out of his seat and slings his bag over his shoulder, clouded with the thoughts of where the asthmatic boy could be.

Richie's hair bounces as he flicks his head back and forth, looking for dark brown hair he's learned to familiarize himself with. He stands on his tippy toes, stretching out his beat up converse more than it already was, desperate to find Eddie.

He catches a glimpse of the slicked chocolate strands of hair  he always liked to run his hands through when he got stressed. Richie grips the strap of his bag and speed walks in the direction of where he saw his boyfriend go.

He bumps into an array of students who look at him in an annoyed fashion before realizing who he is and duck their heads back down, uncomfortably. They don't want to be anywhere near Richie Tozier right now.

"Eddie!" Richie calls, trying to gain the boy's attention but he seems to be unaware of Richie's shouts for attention. Richie sighs and pushes past more students in an urgent matter, muttering excuse me in the process.

"Eddie!" He says a little louder, earning confused looks from nearby kids in response. Richie doesn't notice them or be bothered to acknowledge them, trapped in the never ending jungle that is school, itching to grasp at his companion.

Speaking of itches. _Please_ _don't_ _do_ _this_ _right_ _now._ _Please_ _let_ _him_ _go._

"Eddie!" He shouts, drowning out the stupid thoughts. Richie refuses to believe Eddie won't talk to him anymore. They're two peas in a pod, never to be separated under any circumstances.

Finally, he's sees the boy turn his head towards Richie, no distinct emotion on his face. He seems soulless, almost robotic, not even taking the liberty to stop walking and witness his boyfriend's pleas. Eddie disappears behind the entrance of the staircase, causing Richie to just run past the students.

He is stopped however when fellow loser, Ben Hanscom steps in front of the trashmouth with a look of fear written on his features. Richie’s been keeping this act up for a week. The losers said he would let this go if they left it alone, but it hasn't happened yet. In fact, this is the first time he's said Eddie's name in days. Ben doesn't know if he should be proud or worried.

"Rich, stop. You have to stop." Ben says, continually stepping in front of Richie to keep him from walking towards a lost cause.

"Why?" Richie harshly sighs, tilting his head up to see if Eddie had come back around. No sign.

Ben doesn't know what to say. It kills him knowing that nothing is the same and Richie can't deal with the fact that Eddie just... can't be with him for surreal reasons.

"I—How about we ditch next period?" Ben suggests. "Get some ice cream?"

Richie shakes his head, only one thing replaying in his brain that he's willing to listen to. "I want to see Eds."

Ben sighs. "If you go get ice cream, we can go see Eddie."

Richie thinks on it for a moment, remembering he has History class. God, he hates history. And he wants to see Eddie, but that itching comes back. _Don't_ _get_ _your_ _hopes_ _up,_ _you_ _know_ _where_ _he_ _is._

"Yeah, okay. Let's go."

                    ▼▼▼

    The choice of ice cream Richie asks for is a common yet simple flavour, knowing it's Eddie's favourite as well. Plain vanilla is preferred because Eddie feels it's the most natural and there's nothing added to it to make it overly sweet or chunky.

    Richie was the kind of person who tried a new flavour every time he went to the ice cream parlour, but today he just wanted plain vanilla, signifying the way he felt; plain and boring. He doesn't think he deserves any more than that.

   Ben acknowledges Richie's choice, thinking about how Eddie always gets that flavour of ice cream. And suddenly, he has to fight back the way his eyes burn so his tears have an excuse to run down.

     "Are you sure you want that, Rich?" Ben asks, examining his friend's lifeless features. The boy only nods, staring at the pale coloured flavour, watching the man behind the counter use his scoop to dig up large chunks of ice cream.

     "Uh okay. I'll just have-have cookies and cream." Ben says, earning a "coming right up," in response.

    Richie begins tapping the glass in front of him, looking around the shop to observe the tiny fraction of people in the store. Only an elderly couple eating their sundae and a mother-son duo sit in their separate booths, enjoying themselves respectively. It would make sense as it was the middle of the day technically, still the lunch rush so everyone would be at work or school, which is where Richie and Ben should be.

    The raven-haired boy looks outside the window for any sign of a person lurking around the streets, widening his eyes a bit when he sees a small boy. It's obvious he's a teenager, Richie can just tell. His hair is put-together and dark, just like the chocolate ice cream on display. He's wearing that stupid fanny pack he always wore that still always seemed to suit him, Richie couldn't comprehend why.

    Seconds turn to hours when he turns his head to face the trashmouth's darkened eyes, the same expression playing out when he eyed Richie in school. Why is looking at him like that?

    Richie's feet feel the urge to run out of the parlour, wanting to know the truth behind what he just saw. He knows his time is running out when Eddie, once again, disappears behind the brick walls and Richie just has to find out why he's ignoring him.

    He finds himself walking out of the parlour, alarming Ben as to where he's trying to go. Richie just has to see Eddie, he has to. If he doesn't, he explode like a firework on the fourth of July.

      "Richie, where are you going?" Ben worriedly asks, setting a hand on the boy's shoulder to stop him from whatever he was planning to do. Knowing Richie, it's probably something stupid.

     "I saw him, I just want to talk to him." Richie says dismissively, determined to walk through the exit and find his boyfriend.

    Ben sighs, and hangs his head down low. What Richie was doing wasn't making any sense, and the more he did it, the more frustrating it was.

    At first, it was unpleasant to see the boy drown himself in his never ending ocean of tears, but his coping mechanism was an odd one. Richie was always earning crazy looks, unfazed by the fact that the words coming out of his mouth were ludicrous. It's quite embarrassing to witness these sudden outbursts for Eddie, it's not healthy.

      "I promise we will see him, but you need to cool yourself down." Ben explains, playing along with Richie's act. He wasn't a therapist, but Ben's suggestions always seemed to help Richie. Even when it seems absurd, it just helps.

     "Okay." Richie sheepishly nods, walking back to the counter.

    The man hands the two boys their respective ice cream flavours, while Ben pays for both of them and ignores Richie's protest to pay for his own. Both parties leave the parlour, and coincidentally Ben takes Richie in the direction Eddie had went. But what had confused him was the fact that this wasn't the way to his house. They'd have to take the shortcut through Neibolt Street to get to the Kaspbrak household.

    Suddenly, the itching comes back, causing Richie to annoyingly scratch his head, as if this was something bothering him on the outside when it's obviously an inside annoyance. _Stop_ _pretending_ _you_ _don't_ _know_ _where_ _you're_ _going._ _You_ _know_ _exactly_ _where_ _you're_ _going._

    He scratches his head harder, attempting to make it go away. He doesn't know where he's going. He doesn't.

    Ben takes another turn, that leads to a gated area, licking his ice cream with anxious eyes. He hopes he doesn't have to do this with Richie again, it makes him deeply uncomfortable.

    Richie feels his stomach flip the closer he gets to the entrance of the gated area. His feet start to get heavier, refusing to go any further and that itching has grown. When he looks over, he witnesses large green hills of grass, autumn leaves covering small parts of it. But that's not what stands out, it's the large slabs of stone dug into the ground that stand out. There are things carved into them, words, messages. Goodbyes.

    Richie doesn't want to be here.

    He bites a chunk of his ice cream and looks up at the entrance. The words printed on top make him anxious, fidgety, worried, any of emotion that displays fear. Why did Ben bring him here?

    He's snapped out of his thoughts when a large buzzing sound opens the gates of Derry Cemetery, the name causing goosebumps to creep on Richie's skin. He can hear Ben start to sniffle, trying his damndest to not break down and cry. Richie can't help but wonder why. Why were they here? Where's Eddie?

    His latter question is solved when he sees the boy standing in front of a dull grey tombstone, blocking the view of what it says. He stands calmly, hands in his pockets and breathing steadily, something Richie hasn't been used to in a while.

    The boy turns around and softly stares at Richie, an unreadable expression on his features. He takes two steps to the side as if he was waiting for Ben and Richie to take those empty spots. Eventually, the two fill up the space and Richie looks to Eddie while Ben looks down at the tombstone, biting his lip to hide his sobs. It's as if Ben can't even see the boy on Richie's left, like he's a mere figment that only the latter can see. Why can't he see him? Richie definitely can.

    Eddie looks healthy, surprisingly. His brown eyes still light up at the presence of Richie Tozier. His small frame still looks cute as hell, reminding Richie of the countless times he spoons him when he gets cold. He's just happy to see Eddie. But when he frowns, Richie's under the impression that Eddie isn't happy to see him.

      "Chee, don't do this to yourself." He speaks, sounding like he always did. Richie expected his voice to be raspier for some reason, that's the sound he had grown used to so it was unnatural to hear it this crystal clear. However, he furrows his brows at the small boy's words, his eyes trying to force themselves to look down at the tombstone, but Richie declines the heartbreak as his hand clutches the fragile ice cream cone a little harder.

      "Just look down." Eddie states, the itching getting too big for Richie to ignore. He doesn't want to believe the tragedy, he wants to forget it and pretend everything's okay. He's in **denial**.

     "You have to let me go." Eddie says, walking behind the tombstone, forcing Richie to face it."What does it say, Chee?"

    Richie shakes his head.

       "What does it say?" Eddie demands, a tone of finality in his voice. Usually, Richie would chuckle at Eddie's attempts of being mean and demanding, since anything he did was just too adorable to seem intimidating. But now? He takes it seriously. Like a boy being forced to go to war, Richie doesn't want to enter into the minefield.

       "Richie, please." Eddie says softly, on the verge of breaking down. It was Richie's weakness, he'd do anything to prevent Eddie from crying. Even if it meant accepting the truth.

       "Edward Kas-Kaspbrak." Richie pauses, tripping on his words. "Nine-nineteen seventy-five t-to ninety n-n-ninety." Richie chokes out. His eyes soon blur their vision, tears rushing down his face after being surpressed for so long. The shame in sobbing vanishes into thin air, letting out ugly sounds that would make even the happiest of people go into a dark state of depression.

He feels the arms of Ben Hanscom wrap around him, answering back with a tight hug that could cut off his circulation. They're sobs together sound like one convoluted mess of the worst things you can possibly think of but Ben doesn't care, and neither does Richie. They've lost someone near and dear to them, at such a young age as well. Richie had plans for the future, every single one of them involving the boy now buried six feet under. It had all blown away and disappeared into an abyss of nothingness, like a black hole that sucked anything good in this world.

Eddie was one of them.


	2. ↣ flashback #1 ↢

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Worrying Conversation

_Orange yellow hues coloured the sky, giving off a matte style picture overtop the town of Derry, Maine. It had taken some time but Eddie had managed to sneak past his mother to meet up with his trashmouth, unsure of how she would react to him going out at this time of day so he just never told her._

_It seemed like the talk between the two lovers was going fine, until Eddie brought up the fact he was going to the doctor's to get checked out. Richie took this particular appointment seriously however, based off these past few weeks._

_Eddie was surprised to say the least._

_"Chee, I promise I'll be fine. My mom's probably overreacting again." Eddie explains, but Richie notices how his eyelids droop down, begging to be closed so the small boy can doze off into a calm state of mind. Richie's been noticing an alarming number of things lately, the more he thinks about it._

_His mind is trying to communicate with him, he knows it but he doesn't what it's trying to say. Eddie hasn't been... okay per se. He's still the same personality wise. He still talks like a pip squeak, he can still equally challenge Richie when it comes to playful arguments, his smile still makes Richie's heart flutter more than a butterfly's wings per second. But that's not what he's focused on right now, overall appearance is what floods Richie's mind to the brink and is on the verge of overflowing._

_It started after Eddie woke up in Richie's arms, shaking and covered in sweat. It was contradictory to see Eddie shiver yet seem so hot at the same time, but it happened. The raven-haired boy couldn't comprehend it, thinking his room wasn't too cold nor was it too hot._

_He assumed it was because his body just worked different from Eddie's, but even he knew that it was a bullshit explanation and something was definitely off. He didn't want to accept it, in **denial** that Eddie wasn't okay, but the mention of the appointment has the thought creeping back up on him._

_"Are you sure? You seem... different." Different was really the only word Richie could use. There was no other word that could describe what was happening with Eddie, except for different. Richie didn't know what he meant by the word though._

_"What do you mean?" Eddie asks, stopping in his tracks to face his boyfriend. Richie got a good look at the small boy, noticing how much thinner he's gotten. Eddie was already thin of course, being smaller than most, but now... he's really thin. It isn't just that however. There's also the tiny red spots painted on his skin, and the small shiver he has been trying to hide for the past few weeks. He's not doing a very good job though._

_"Eds, you're shivering." Richie says, placing a hand on Eddie's forearm and immediately feeling the tiny goosebumps formed on his skin. The latter pulls his hand away, trying to rub the little bumps away too weaken Richie's argument, but he knows the trashmouth has the upper hand already._

_"It's cold outside—"_

_"It's late august." Richie counters. Eddie huffs, indicating Richie that the smaller boy needs more convincing. "I'm just saying that maybe this is something serious."_

_"Who are you? My mother?" Eddie playfully scoffs, crossing his arms sassily._

_Richie sighs and eyes his boyfriend seriously. Eddie immediately notices his gaze and uncrosses his arms to intertwine their hands together._

_"I will be fine, okay?" Eddie assures, looking between Richie's dark chocolate eyes. If he wanted to, he would have just stared at Richie for the whole evening. Eddie, instead, settles for a peck on the lips, causing the trashmouth to shamelessly smile._

_"Remind meh to give ya momma a kiss afta ya appointmant, Eddie spaghetti." Richie says, using an accent not even he would be able to guess what it is. Eddie laughs nonetheless, hitting him on the shoulder while the words "beep beep Richie," escape his lips._

_The boy laughs, but there's a part of his mind that can't help what's going on with Eddie. He guesses it's just in his blood to care for the hypochondriac._

_"Maybe I should go with you? To keep you compa—"_

_Eddie cuts Richie off. "Even if I wanted you to, my mother wouldn't allow you to."_

_Richie hangs his head down and stares at his shoes, as if they were the most interesting possessions known to man. Eddie notices this, using his right index to lift his boyfriend's head up. He sees his eyes stay on the floor below and watches how his hands curl into a fist._

_"Chee, why are you doing this to yourself?" Eddie asks, earning a half-assed shrug in response._

_"You haven't been okay." Richie replies. Eddie breaks his eye-contact, acknowledging the fact that he knows he hasn't been okay. It always feels like he's running a marathon under a scorching sun. He seems to get bruised more easily after he clumsily trips or gets a beating from Bowers. There's been a high occurrence of nose bleeds at the oddest of times. Eddie could go on._

_He doesn't like the fact that he hasn't told Richie about these happenings, but judging the way he reacted to him just having an appointment to all the things he has noticed, Eddie's not going to put that burden over him._

_"I'll tell you what?" Eddie begins. "Right after the appointment, I'll go straight over to your house and tell you the news."_

_Richie considers the idea for a moment, thinking about the possibility of Eddie telling him it was something serious. He didn't want to hear that right away, but at the same time, he wanted an assurance and he didn't want to wait for it. Richie would rather prepare for something bad to happen, than have it happen out of left field._

_"Fine. Okay, fine." He nods, looking up to meet Eddie's eyes. It's Richie's comfort. If anything goes wrong, he'll think of Eddie and miraculously calm down. He doesn't know how it's accomplished, but he just doesn't care._

_"Thank you." Eddie sighs in relief. "On a happier note, I heard Stan asked Bill out."_


	3. ↝ stage 2 ↜

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anger

        Ben had walked Richie home, knowing the boy was simply not in the right state of mind to finish off school. The walk home was silent and uncomfortable, but it wasn't surprising considering Richie's denial had washed away and settled on the shore. However, he felt a new wave crashing in and didn't want to set it on Ben as well. Sweet Ben, who just wanted to lay it on him easy and even took the liberty to sweeten it a little by buying him ice cream.

        Richie had given him a few coins at his doorstep, ignoring Ben's protests that he didn't want to be paid back. Richie didn't listen and only responded with a "later haystack," before disappearing behind his door.

        Now, Richie sits on his bed, taking in what he had just witnessed. He hadn't seen Eddie's grave since the funeral but during it, he never looked at the coffin being lowered into the ground, under the impression it wasn't his Eddie in there. His mind made him believe that it was some other person from Derry who was grasped by the unholy hands of death. That's why he didn't cry, he refused to let others see him cry so his mind conjured up a coping mechanism to keep him from doing so.

        Richie's leg bounces up and down as he realizes how mad at his mind he is. If he hadn't come up with that idea to forget Eddie's death then he wouldn't be grieving as much as he would be now. He would have accepted it, but no, he had to go through a week of denial. A week!

        The broken boy watches the anxiety trapped in his bouncing leg, feeling as if he kept looking at it, the anxiety would grow. Instead, he lifts his head but regrets the decision immediately.

        "Jesus." Richie mutters at the sight of Eddie Kaspbrak sitting on his desk chair. And to think, a few days ago he would've been lead to believe this was the real deal, and Eddie had miraculously been brought from the dead.

        "This is a good thing, you know?" Eddie says, leaning back in the seat. "Accepting my death."

        Richie scoffs. "How? By putting me through pain?" He wants to laugh, Richie wants to laugh so hard at the mere idea of this being  _a good thing_.

        "You would've gone through even more if you hadn't revisited that grave." Eddie argues, but the point goes in one ear and out the other to Richie.

        "So you lead me from school to the cemetery, so I could what? Cry about you? Did you somehow control haystack to bring me there too?" He seethes, earning no immediate reaction from the other boy. Eddie doesn't even flinch.

        "This wasn't healthy for you." Eddie says, lifting his back from the seat and sitting on the edge.

        "I was completely fine." Richie lies, knowing he was anything but. He doesn't even why he's trying to hide it either, the person standing in front of him isn't real, he's just a figment of Richie's imagination. The only thing Richie's trying to figure out now is if his purpose is to help him or just piss him off because he was definitely doing the latter right now.

        "You were yelling my name in the middle of a high school hallway. You are not  _fine_." Eddie counters, riling up Richie so much that he jolts out his bed, the structure creaking from the loss of weight.

        "Don't you think I wouldn't have done that if you hadn't shown up!" Richie snaps, pacing around the room like a madman. Eddie only looks up and watches the boy pace, unfazed by his sudden outburst.

        "And why are you suddenly mad at me for this?" Eddie tilts his head. Richie feels the urge to mock him, tell him that his question is bullshit and the answer is obvious, but he doesn't after realizing that this is all stupid. He's talking to nothing, there is no one sitting in front of him. But he needs to let it out, he needs to take his  **anger**  out.

        "You left me! You let the stupid... that stupid  _thing_  grow inside you! Then you just suddenly come back after a week of me just denying your death and force me to face your grave. You expect me to thank you? To be wonderful that you just decided to infect my mind and make me feel like an even bigger piece of shit? Fuck you Eddie Kaspbrak!"

        He knows he shouldn't be mad at Eddie, he knows it isn't his fault but he needs to be mad at something, he needs to blame someone. Eddie, in a way, is sitting right in front of him, so who better than him.

        "Chee—"

        "Don't call me that. You're not Eddie, I'm not your _Chee_."

        Eddie nods. " _Richie_. You're mad, I can see that. But you can't blame it on—"

        "Actually I'd prefer to be alone right now." Richie looks away, hoping that once he turns back there will be no one sitting at his chair. It's crystal clear to him that Eddie isn't there. Eddie would've fought back to the point where, even if Richie was right, he would've shut up and listened to the smaller boy. It makes him realize how much he misses Eddie, the real Eddie. Not this stupid impersonator who thinks he can fix him to his old self. Only Eddie Kaspbrak can do that and he's not here.

        "Chee—"

        Richie rages and picks up an article of clothing from his floor (seems to be a pair of jeans) and flings it at the decoy's direction only to find nothing sitting at the desk of his. The empty chair spins from the force thrust upon it as the pants fall right back on the ground, creating a thudding sound.

        Suddenly Richie lets out an agonizing scream, the veins in his head popping out while his eyes burn and tear up. He then drops to the floor and starts to sob, the same ugly sounds escaping his mouth from when he was with Ben at the cemetery.

        He immediately thought about the movies where stuff like this happens. Richie thought doing stuff like dropping to your knees and crying was a bit too overdramatic for his taste. But now he feels the weight of all, one big stone of resentment and pain trying to crush him under his own weight. He doesn't like the feeling.

        He doesn't like it at all.

▼▼▼

        Despite the hallways leaving no room for silence, Richie hears nothing as he walks through the soulless halls of his high school. He had ignored the losers in each class he was in and planned to do so after lunch ended.

        Part of Richie wanted to go home and sulk, maybe cut up a few pictures of him and Eddie then regret it an hour later. Anything was better than the pitiful looks directed his way. He didn't like the way his schoolmates looked at him, as if they felt sorry for Eddie and how it affects Richie when a good chunk of them had thrown disgusted looks at them if they did so much as hold hands. They were all fake people who wanted to seem like they cared. It's sick.

        Suddenly, a careless Henry Bowers bumps past Richie's shoulder, earning furrowed eyebrows from Richie in response. The blonde turns around, apparently offended by the fact Richie couldn't use his peripheral vision.

        "Watch where you're going, Tozier." Henry grumbles, aggressively throwing his bag over his shoulder. Richie rolls his eyes, too deep in his own thoughts to be scared of Henry.

        "Shut the fuck up." Richie shoots back, starting something he didn't mean to but didn't mind at the same time.

        "What did you say to me?" Henry glares, turning back around to face the wavy-haired boy. For some reason, Richie just wasn't scared. He guesses it's just what happens when your mad at the world because Henry Bowers is just a spec compared to it.

        "I said shut the fuck up. Do you need to hear it twice?" Richie spits. Henry scoffs and shakes his head playfully, while Richie looks down to his clenched fist. He wouldn't blame Henry though, Richie would probably want to punch himself as well.

        "I'm trying to let you off easy, you four-eyed faggot. Don't make me regret it." Henry warns, his fist gripped tighter. It's unsure if he's trying to keep himself from punching Richie or building himself to do it.

        "So what?" Richie scoffs. "Oh I'm so thankful you put off your fighting boner and have chosen not to beat me up." He says, in a high pitched princess voice but it just sounded like Richie in falsetto.

        Henry rolls his eyes, then smirks sneakily, about to make the worst decision he ever could. "I wonder what girly boy would say if he heard you talking about my di—"

        What happened next was something Richie couldn't be able to explain. He doesn't know how Henry ended on the floor with Richie on top of him. He doesn't know where the audience of students came from to crowd around them. He doesn't know how the losers were able to pry Richie off Henry. However, he does know that his knuckles hurt like a bitch, but it's nothing compared to Henry's face.

        "Rich, what the fuck?" Beverly says, turning the boy away from a bruised Bowers. Richie doesn't answer and flinches his hand out of Beverly's clutches so he can walk away. The students clear a path, not wanting to be the next victim of Richie's fist, but an expression of awe and fear stuck to their faces as the boy goes passed them. The losers share a knowing look, and chase after the trashmouth, uncertain of what he might do next.

        They catch up to him before he begins walking on the sidewalk outside of the west entrance, either oblivious that they're following him or completely ignoring their existence.

        "Richie!" Beverly calls. "Richie!"

        Richie turns around. "Fucking what?"

        "What the hell has gotten into you?" Stan speaks, utterly shocked by his friend's behavior. He's never acted like this before. Sure, his mouth got him into loads of trouble, but that made him get the receiving end of a brutal beating, he would never be the one who started it. The losers didn't like this new Richie.

        "Nothing, I'm fine."  _Lies, lies and more lies._ Richie can even hear the sentence in Eddie's voice, but can't respond to it, knowing the others would think he's absolutely insane and that wouldn't help his case about the fight that just took place.

        "Beating up Henry Bowers of all people does not classify you as fine." Stan argues, earning looks of agreement from the rest of the group. Richie rolls his eyes, unable to connect to his friends' worries. Wouldn't they have wanted Richie to beat up Bowers? He's been a complete prick to all of them and this is the first time he's actually fought back. If anything, Richie thinks he should've left him even worse than he already was, especially since he said those unforgivable words.

        "He was talking about Eddie," Richie says abruptly, annoyance displayed on his features. Silence is the initial response from the group, each of them hanging their heads down low in their own unique ways. The Kaspbrak boy is a sensitive topic for every member of the losers club, but the four still can't justify Richie's decisions for roughing up Bowers.

        "What did he s-suh-s-say?" Bill speaks up, the only person brave enough to ask Richie what they were all wondering.

        "Doesn't matter. He got what he deserved." Richie responds with a tone of harsh finality and turns back around to walk away from his friends, but Bill isn't done.

        "It's not j-juh-just you." Bill says, stopping Richie in his tracks. He's not stupid, he knows he's not the only one in mourning, but Eddie was his boyfriend, Richie's the one who's more hurt and he should be. The two boys spent almost every minute of every day together and just to have it ripped from him so abruptly... Richie can't even think about it. How could they possibly feel anything  _close_ to what Richie is?

        "Eddie's my boyfriend—"

        "Eddie's my best friend." Bill shoots back. "He's also Stan's and Ben's and Beverly's and Mike's." He continues, gesturing to each person accordingly aside from Mike who sits in mourning back at his farm.

        "He's right." Ben cuts in. "It was only until last night that I stopped crying myself to sleep."

        "You're not the only one who's lost someone." Beverly adds on, speaking softly for the first time. It was weird to hear Beverly speak like that, even when she does speak softly, it's with such confidence. Now it sounds weak and timid and fearful.

        Richie doesn't want to lose this argument, he's been losing them much too often lately but with this one, he knows he's the one in the wrong. It was sealed after he heard Beverly's shy voice.

        He begins, shaking his head in disagreement. "But everyone else—"

        "—didn't know Eddie like we did." Stan cuts Richie off. The latter sighs and grits his teeth, trying not to feel the emotion behind his friends' words but ultimately failing miserably. He starts to feel selfish about what he was planning on telling them if they let him finish. He wants to be mad at them and rant to them, just like he did to Eddie or whoever that was, but knows they also feel like complete shit right now.

        The boy turns his head left and no surprise, Eddie stands there with disappointment flashed on his features. He shakes his head and goes back in the school, unable to comprehend Richie's actions a few minutes ago. Jesus, even his imaginary therapist is upset with him.

        Richie swallows the lump in his throat and turns back around, shutting his tightly so no tears try to run down his face. He doesn't want his friends to see him cry, he just doesn't.

        "Rich—"

        "Let him go, Ben," Bill says, and apparently the boy listens and doesn't go after his friend, leaving Richie alone with his thoughts.


	4. ↣ flashback #2 ↢

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bad news

  
_Richie mindlessly taps his number two pencil against his textbook, trying to understand the homework given to him. He doesn't understand how blood is naturally yellow, but apparently that's the case and it's only red when exposed to oxygen. It's just so weird._

_The boy grows frustrated and closes his textbook, refreshing his memory to remember all the new information he just learned. He knew he shouldn't have skipped yesterday's lesson, but he couldn't keep Eddie waiting in the janitor's closet especially since he would be picked up immediately after school for his appointment so the two wouldn't be able to walk home like they always did. But jesus, this was hard homework._

_Richie sighs, about to go back to reading his textbook until a soft knock interrupts his studying session._

_"Mom, I swear I'm doing my work." Richie says, not bothering to look up from his papers._

_"Haha mister." Maggie Tozier fake laughs, holding a laundry basket in her left arm. "You have a visitor."_

_Richie perks up at the mention of the word 'visitor,' witnessing an uneasy Eddie Kaspbrak nodding at Maggie before walking into Richie's room. "Thanks Mrs. Tozier."_

_"Anytime, Eddie." She smiles and disappears into the laundry room across the hall. Eddie closes the door behind him softly, putting his weight against it while Richie watches expectantly._

_"Hey Chee." Eddie says, not even an inkling of relief in his voice. It's at that moment Richie knows that Eddie's condition isn't a good one. Realizing the bad news, Richie sucks in a deep breath, bouncing his leg up and down. He expects the worst possible scenario, and feels his eyes burn at the thought of it._

_Eddie walks over, refusing to see a broken Richie Tozier today. He helps pick up the boy by the hands with a surprising amount of strength and sets him on the edge of the bed. His hands then find their way to Richie's cheeks, the thumbs tracing his high cheekbones._

_"Richie, look at me." Eddie asks softly, nothing threatening or demanding about it, just a small voice begging for his boyfriend to look at him._

_Richie eventually gives in and looks into the boy's eyes, but immediately regrets the situation when he sees Eddie's puffy red orbs with lava cracks prominent inside them._

_"I don't want to know." Richie whispers, but he knows he's lying to himself. If anything, he wants more than anything in the world to know what's happening with Eddie._

_"I don't want you to know." Eddie mutters, removing one hand away from Richie's face. The boy wonders what will happen if he does tell Richie about his condition. He refuses to see the look on his face when he finds out, but at the same time, he deserves to know._

_"Ju-Just tell me." Richie sniffs, trying his damndest to stop himself from crying. Eddie takes in a deep breath, not wanting to even think about the words spoken to him by the doctor, but forces himself to remember the words._

_"It's cancer." Eddie confesses._

_Suddenly, the sun stops shining, the plants stop growing, the birds stop singing and every single organ in Richie's body stops to take in what Eddie had just said. If Richie couldn't still see everything around him, he'd be fainting right about now. It's like his mind can't even process the fact because it can't be able to comprehend that **Eddie** **has** **cancer.**_

_"What? How? What kind? How long have you had it? Can they get it out of you? Just tell me they can do something!" Richie exclaims, feeling the sweat beat out from his hands profusely. He rubs them against his jeans, which also feel like their suffocating his legs. Everything just feels too tight._

_"They're going to put me in chemotherapy and hopefully it will work." Eddie says. However he's been ignoring the symptoms for so long, he doesn't know how much it has spread. The boy stopped paying attention after 'acute myeloid leukemia.'_

_"And if it doesn't?" Richie asks, looking to meet Eddie's eyes, unable to find the comfort he always did. Maybe it's because he might never get the chance to look at them again._

_Eddie doesn't want to answer the question, he desperately doesn't. He's still trying to figure out how he got this in the first place. His mother was a little too protective but she would never put anything in the pills she gave him, he knew his asthma was fake but it was only water not anything harmful._

_The only thing he can think of is his father, who died the same way. Eddie isn't sure if it was the same type of cancer, it could've been something more common with adults. Eddie wasn't really interested in hearing how his father died, the subject bringing tears to his eyes. But this isn't how he thought he might go out. And he definitely didn't expect it to be something that had also grasped the body of his father before him. It isn't fair, it isn't fucking fair._

_"All I can do, is hope it does." Eddie sighs, taking one of Richie's hands and playing with his fingers. It always made him feel more at ease._

_"When do you go to the hospital?" Richie asks, doing his best to keep his emotions at bay and staying strong for Eddie. It's really hard, though._

_"Tomorrow. I have to pack some stuff tonight." Eddie answers, pondering for a moment. "You could help, if you want?"_

_Does Richie want to help though? Why would he want to help him to a hospital and put him in a cold and isolated room where a bunch of strangers tend to his cancerous needs, then go through school thinking about how they're injecting stuff into him that makes him generally weaker? Yeah, it's going to help but it's also going to be painful and Richie doesn't like when Eddie's in pain._

_"Uh no. It'll be too hard, I'm sorry." Richie shakes his head, earning an understanding nod from Eddie in response. He doesn't want to push the boy any further._

_"You'll visit though, right?" Eddie questions. Richie scoffs, not even needing to think about the answer. It's pretty obvious to him._

_"Totally." Richie weakly smiles, causing an immediate one back. It's going to be hard, but as long as Richie stays on the bright side of things, he'll be fine. However, there's that little part of him in **anger** that of all the people who could've gotten cancer, it chose Eddie. Poor Eddie, who was just getting over that fact that his medication was placebos which did nothing for his body. Jeez, the world sucks sometimes._

_Richie takes the time to look in the boy's brown eyes, regaining the comfort he didn't feel a minute ago. He sees Eddie's cheeks go hot when he notices himself leaning closer to the boy. Impatient, Eddie closes the distance, placing a hand on the back of Richie's neck to push the kiss in deeper._

_If this is the last night Richie and Eddie can be together like this then Richie wants to make the most of it._

_Richie forces himself into the kiss so much, Eddie has to lean back and Richie takes the chance to climb on top of him, leaving no room for escape. Once Eddie's back contacts the mattress, both parties teeth clink together. It's uncomfortable but they don't care, continually going at it. Richie decides to use leverage and licks the smaller boy's bottom lip, asking for entrance. Eddie grants the access and their tongues fight, accomplishing a series of moans from both boys._

_Richie trails his hand down and slips it up Eddie's shirt, his breath hitching when he feels out the bones of the boy's ribcage. He knows Eddie was thin, but... jesus._

_"What's wrong?" Eddie asks worriedly, tilting his head up. Richie doesn't respond and lifts up the boy's shirt, catching a glimpse of the red spots that cover Eddie's lower abdomen. The latter looks away in shame, using his hands to cover up his exposed stomach. Richie stops him however, trailing his hands away and continually stares before placing small kisses to each red spot he can find._

_He doesn't care what Eddie has on him, he sees beauty either way._

_The smaller boy giggles at the small contact, content with the fact that Richie still sees him as the same he always did._

_He's going to miss him if he's goes._


	5. ↝ stage 3 ↜

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bargaining

 

        The sound of Richie's ceiling fan cutting through the air fills the silence he wants. He could get up and turn it off, but he doesn't want to. It's not uncommon for a person to do something like this, Richie's no exception. If only something could happen for him that would turn off that stupid fan so he's content. He wishes a lot of things would happen so he's content, but the world hates him right now and he's unsurprisingly fine with that.

        If Richie had his choice, he'd prefer the ceiling fan above him to just drop on his face and put him out of his misery. That's his overall mood right now, and he wouldn't change it even if he wanted to. He thinks that's how he should feel considering the way he treated his friends and how he snapped at 'Eddie' or fake Eddie or whoever the fuck that is.

        It makes him wonder how everyone would feel if he was the one with cancer inside him and he was the one buried six feet under with a tombstone over top. Would the losers care? Would his parents care? Would anyone care?

        "I would." A soft voice says, causing the boy to sit up from his twin bed and face Eddie sitting on the rug in front of it. Richie chuckles and shakes his head at the random times this boy can show up.

        "You of all people should know I don't like being lied to." Richie says, falling back on his bed. He hears a series of shifts, then all of a sudden Eddie falls down right next to him andfeels the bed creak under his weight.

        "Who said I was lying to you?" He asks. Richie doesn't answer and continues to look at the rotating fan on top of him. He just can't believe that anyone would miss him, Eddie was the more well-liked of the two to everyone else. He accelerated in all of his classes, he was kind to his teachers, his mother loved him (even though she had a funny way of showing it), and the losers thought of him as a brother. Richie didn't think he was anything like Eddie.

        "People would miss you, Richie." Eddie assures.

        Richie shakes his head. "It should've been me." If it came down to it, Richie would trade his life for Eddie's in a heartbeat. He'd take the pain that came with chemotherapy, he'd take the number of needles injected into him, and he'd take being buried six feet under in a claustrophobic coffin with nothing but black in his sight. He'd do it all for Eddie to see sunlight again.

        "You think you should've gotten the cancer instead of me?" Eddie tried to comprehend. Richie rolls his eyes at the fact he's still using a first person point of view, but answers nonetheless.

        "I'm the one who should have the shitty luck. Eddie hasn't done one bad thing without me telling him to do so. He doesn't skip school unless I do, he doesn't sneak out unless I do, he doesn't do something dangerous unless I do. And he's the one that gets cancer? It's pretty bullshit to me." Richie explains, thinking on what he just said. "His life would be better if I wasn't in it."

        "And how'd you think I'd react if that happened?" Eddie asks. The other boy turns his head and observes Eddie's features. The resemblance between him and the real boy is uncanny and it's truly an amazing sight, but unfortunately he's still not that boy. He's not real and that's not something that's going to change, even if Richie wanted it to. He could very well transform himself into Bill or even Mike to help Richie get over Eddie's passing. Richie thinks: _I_ _should_ _talk_ _to_ _Mike_. _Eddie_ _was_ _very_ _close_ _to_ _Mike_ , _I_ _should_ _see_ _how_ _he's_ _doing_.

        "You're not Eddie." Richie says, turning back to the fan above him but he can still feel the pair of eyes boring into his skin.

        "That doesn't mean you should be **bargaining** yourself, then assuming nobody would care." Eddie explains harshly, shifting his weight on his forearm. Richie still looks at the fan, taking a moment to actually wonder how Eddie would react to Richie dying. Would he go through everything Richie was?

        He'd never want Eddie to feel such pain over him, and the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that's probably what Eddie, the real Eddie, feels right now.

        It would probably be killing him to see Richie cry at his grave and go off on his friends. He must've heard Richie say 'fuck you' as well, disappointed that he was putting all the blame on him instead of the literal cancer he didn't want in the first place. Richie's been so selfish thinking about how the world would be a better place if he wasn't there, without considering that what makes the world a better place is Richie to Eddie.

        The boy finally turns beside him and finds an empty space, his frown dropping even further when he sees no one. He huffs and bangs his head against the mattress, frustrated that even his own mind is mad at him, but even worse, Eddie must also be deeply upset at him.

        Once again, he's alone.

▼▼▼

        Richie knows he's in the danger zone when he hears the buzzing vibration of the gates to Derry Cemetery open. It's at this moment, he wishes he had someone at his side to do this with, like Ben or Stan or Mike. Especially Mike. Just his presence was a comfort to Richie, no matter what the situation. But the sad thing is, Mike hasn't talked to anyone or seen anyone since the funeral.

        Richie absolutely understands the need to be alone, since the only other person Eddie spent everyday of his life with was Mike from the day they met until...

        Anyway, Richie still prefers someone like Mike to help do what he's about to do because lord knows this is tough to do alone.

        He comes across the tombstone he cried his heart out in front of just a few days ago and kneels down, the tulips in his hands shaking from the anxious thoughts in his head. He takes a deep breath and sets the flowers on the ground, trailing his eyes over the words

 

**Edward** **Kaspbrak**

1975-1990

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God

Matthew 5:9

 

        The boy immediately looks away, and feels his breaths get shorter. If anyone saw him, they'd think he's having a panic attack, and Richie’s almost sure he is. He thinks he should leave this place and completely forget about what happened, forget about Eddie's death once again and hide himself in his room from everything that tries to tear down the wall he tries to build.

        But he can't.

        _Just_ _do_ _it,_ _Richie_.

        He slowly turns around and his eyes meet the name of his lover carved in stone. He adjusts his position so he's sitting cross-legged as he feels his eyes get hotter by the second, while the wind helps the tears get going.

        "H-H-Hey Eds." He greets awkwardly, his heartbreaking at the thought that Eddie can't say anything back. "I've been having a rough couple weeks, if you didn't know and I think you're the only one still willing to listen to me. Even when we would fight, you'd still hear me out. That was one of my favourite things about you, you were always there."

        Richie closes his eyes. "I'm not okay. I've been an asshole to everyone, even Henry. Can you believe that?" He weakly chuckles. "He was talking about you, so I just went apeshit and started punching him senseless. I didn't think I had so much anger bottled up inside me and I guess I just took it out on Henry."

        Richie pauses, and opens his eyes to look down on the grass, ripping out the blades dismissively. Thankfully, he doesn't feel too uncomfortable doing this but he wishes that he could get a response. Eddie doesn't even need to show up, he just wants a sign that the boy listening.

        "But, I also got mad at you. I don't know why I did such a stupid thing like that, but I did. It wasn't your fault and I'm so sorry for even considering that it was. If anything, it's my fault." Richie wipes a tear away from his face. "I should've acknowledged your symptoms the first time, but I brushed them off. Even after it got worse, I decided to wait and by the time I brought it up, you were so deep into the stages, nothing could be done except for the stupid chemo. Then y-yuh-you were constantly sick and vomiting, a-a-and it was so hard to look at you without trying to keep myself from ballin—from balling my eyes out. There were even days where I ca-came to visit and your doctor said you were too weak t-to talk. Now you're-you're here and I c-ca-can't do anything—"

        Richie drops his head into his hands, desperately trying to stop more tears from falling down. He promised himself he wouldn't cry, but it seems he just couldn't hold it back. His head starts to throb painfully as he rubs his irritating eyes that now look red and swollen. Richie's a mess.

        "I just need you here, Eds. I really do." He chokes out, sliding the tulips closer to the grave.

        These flowers had a special place in the boys' relationship, especially to Richie. It was involved in Richie's favourite pickup line to use on Eddie whenever he wanted to playfully annoy him. Eddie always rolled his eyes after it was said, but Richie knew he was just trying to hide how much he loved it.

        Richie wishes he could be able to tell it to Eddie again.


	6. ↣ flashback #3 ↢

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hospital visit

_A strong smell of hand sanitizer makes Richie scrunch his nose as he walks into Derry Hospital. He wobbles while he walks, uncomfortable by the number of adults in scrubs, lab coats and whatnot. This place is just too cold in general, there's no sense of warmth, just a place of work. Richie doesn't want Eddie to be staying here._

_He knows Eddie's already familiar with this place, but now that Richie has actually observed the place, he can't see how anyone could grow use to it. Maybe, he was overreacting about it, but he just wants Eddie in a comfortable environment where he's not constantly reminded of his illness whenever he sees a sick patient walk by his room._

_To lighten the mood, Richie had gotten Eddie a teddy bear dressed as a nurse and a bouquet of tulips, but it doesn't seem that they'll actually affect the way Eddie's hospital room will look judging by the first impression Richie had of this place._

_He goes to the front desk nonetheless, placing the two items next to him and leans over to see a tanned-skinned middle-aged woman with light brown hair tied back into a ponytail and defined wrinkles across her face._

_"Excuse me?" He greets, catching the lady's attention. She looks up with a bright yet tired smile, telling Richie that she's been working for awhile._

_"Yes. How may I help you?"_

_"I'm looking for Eddie Kaspbrak." He says, smiling when he mentions Eddie's name. The woman perks up._

_"Are you Richie?" She asks, earning furrowed eyebrows from the boy in response. He nods nonetheless, preparing himself for bad news._

_"Eddie told me he was expecting you to come." She elaborates, allowing Richie to let out a breath of relief. He reminds himself that not everything is just a slew of unfortunate outcomes one after the other. In fact, the boy blushes at the thought of Eddie telling the secretary that he was waiting for Richie to arrive._

_"He's on the fourth floor, room A1-014." She says. Richie responds with a quick "thank you" and grabs his gifts, advancing towards the elevator. Once the door closes, he hears his uneasy breathing along with the occasional ding whenever he passes a floor. He feels so out of place in this hospital, like he shouldn't even be here. The only reason he is, is for Eddie but it's still a weird feeling._

_He looks back down at the flowers and teddy bear, regretting the decision to have the stuffed animal dressed as a nurse. Why would he want to remind Eddie of his current state? There was a much nicer one with a heart on its belly. Inside, it said 'get well soon!' but Richie didn't get it and he feels so stupid now. If only he had gotten that one._

_The automatic elevator doors snap him out of his **bargaining** for teddy bears and he walks in the direction of where the room he's looking for is. His heartbeat slowly quickens from the stress as he gets closer to the hospital room. The items in his hands shake a little when he sees a man in a wheelchair with his head hanging lifelessly to the side. He's obviously still alive, Richie sees the tubes helping him breathe but his stomach gets queasy as he thinks about Eddie looking like that._

_He shakes the disturbing thought away from his head and comes across the room he's looking for. He peeks his head in and sees Eddie in the middle of waking up, shifting his weight on the bed he's lying on. Richie can't help but pity the boy for how uncomfortable he must be._

_He takes his time, walking into the room, not wanting to disturb the peaceful boy and carefully placing the flowers and bear on the table. He then observes his boyfriend, unhappy at the sight._

_A tube connected to a needle pierces the middle of Eddie's arm, and it might've been there for awhile but Richie doesn't care because it looks painful. He desperately wants to take it out, still he knows it's potentially saving Eddie's life right now. His skin is much paler than before, no longer the golden colour Richie was used to. He can still see the red patches of skin he always imagined would go away if he kissed it better._

_A bucket filled with Eddie's breakfast sits inside it, causing Richie to cringe at the small glimpse he has of it. His hair has gotten thinner as well, originally being full of dark locks but now reduced. A styrofoam cup sits on his desk, along with a series of empty plates and magazines. And the hospital gown Eddie's wearing is significantly bigger than his actual size, but it's not something he can change since all gowns are the same._

_"Hey Chee." A raspy voice snaps Richie out of his analysis and his lips curl up into a weak smile when he hears Eddie's small voice._

_"Hey Eddie Spaghetti." Richie replies softly, brushing Eddie's hair back. The latter stretches and shifts his weight closer to left side of his bed and turns his head to the two new things on his bedside table. He rolls his eyes at the flowers, then looks back to Richie with playful annoyance on his features._

_"Tulips?" He raises an eyebrow, causing the raven-haired boy to smirk in response._

_"I think they're a great choice—"_

_"Don't say it—" Eddie grimaces, but Richie continues._

_"Because if I were a gardener—"_

_"Rich, I swear—"_

_"I would put our—"_

_"Oh my god—"_

_"two lips together." Richie finishes with a proud smile. Eddie slaps the hand, that doesn't have a needle going through it, over his head in shame but Richie can see the smile he's trying to hide._

_It manages to wipe all anxiousness away from Richie's body when he witnesses Eddie's smile. Only Eddie could do such a thing._

_"I got you a teddy bear too, but I feel so stupid for buying the one dressed as a nurse." Richie scratches the back of his neck, desperately wanting to go back to the store and buy the 'get well soon' bear._

_"No, it's okay. I like this one." Eddie says, taking in the different features of the small teddy. He blushes at the thought of Richie doing his damndest to pick the right gift for him. It makes him feel special._

_"Are you sure? I can go back and get ano-"_

_"Yes, I'm sure." Eddie assures, placing his hand on top of Richie's. The raven-haired boy nods sheepishly, still iffy about his choices but as long as Eddie likes it, he's okay._

_A deafening silence flourishes and neither boys know what to say next. Richie wants to ask how Eddie's doing but it's such a generic question, and it's obvious that he's not okay. He could ask him if he's eaten or how chemo even works (because he's not entirely sure), but it just seems too hard. Why is everything so hard?_

_"I'm okay, if you're wondering." Eddie speaks up, clearing his throat when he hears how raspy it sounds. Richie can still hear the fib in his voice though. Nevertheless, he plays along._

_"How long have you been hooked up to this?" Richie asks, gesturing to the transparent tube that has a clear liquid running through it. He can't even imagine what must be doing to Eddie right now.  From what he sees, the smaller boy isn't in pain so that's what matters._

_Eddie looks up for a moment, pondering for a moment then lets out a harsh sigh. "Thirty minutes."_

_"Does it hurt?" Richie blurts, grasping for an answer. Eddie shakes his head, dismissively scratching his clavicle. "And you're not uncomfortable?"_

_"I get a full three meals each day, I think I'll be fine." Eddie jokes, trying to lighten Richie's worry. He can basically sense the uneasiness of Richie's words, and in turn, it makes him upset. Eddie doesn't want the boy so hung up on him, especially if this treatment doesn't go well. It's a dark thought but Eddie refuses to dismiss the idea of this process failing and him succumbing to death._

_"I'll visit everyday." Richie says, feeling the need to remind Eddie that he'll be there. There's really no reason, he just needs to say that._

_"I know you will." Eddie smiles, moving his hand up to scratch his neck. "Now can we watch something? I've been staring at a blank screen for half an hour and I can't reach the remote."_

_Richie chuckles and makes his way over to the other side of the table, grabbing the remote from the far table. He sits in the chair and flips through the channels before stopping at a TV screening of Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark. It's mostly just background noise as Richie just takes the time to look at Eddie. He gets caught most of the time, but only replies with a cheeky smile causing Eddie to blush and awkwardly look back at the screen._

_With each scene, Richie's hand gets closer to Eddie's as the latter got more and more frustrated as to how Richie was dragging it out. The slow burn is even further delayed when the nurse comes in to to take out the needle from Eddie's arm, but they get right back to it after she leaves. Once they're completely interlocked, Richie's index traces circles around Eddie's palm, making his stomach do backflips every time one lap is finished._

_Sometimes it just baffles Eddie as to how he manages to get flustered even after they date, but he doesn't mind it considering he does the same to Richie._

_At the end of the movie Richie turns to Eddie, only to find the boy fast asleep. The boy smiles and uses the hand that's not intertwined with his to push the blanket further up his body. He knows visiting hours are almost over, but he doesn't want to leave. He wants to sleep next to Eddie to make sure nothing happens to him. Even if these are professionally trained nurses and doctors, he can't trust him with any of them, they just don't know Eddie well enough._

_He does need to trust them nonetheless, which is something he can't warm up to right away but learn to get used to._


	7. ↝ stage 4 ↜

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Depression

        Richie stares at the plate of food his mother gave him for dinner, sulking in his room. He doesn't feel like eating, nor does he think he deserves to. His body is shut down and the only thing he can do is lie down on his bed. Well, that's what he usually does, but this seems to be his lone function now.

        It's been a week since he's visited Eddie's grave and he couldn't be more empty. He barely went to school, he would always let his phone ring when someone called, the number of hours for sleep significantly decreased and his appetite couldn't be lower. He also found himself crying at the most random times, like when he walked out of the pharmacy after sneakily stealing his first pack of Marlboro cigarettes.

        Sometimes it's just hard to comprehend his circumstances, so much so, it keeps him up at night. The dark bags under Richie's eyes will definitely prove that to you.

        He hasn't even seen 'Eddie' since that bargaining argument, and Richie wouldn't blame him for it, he was acting inconsiderately. Things just weren't working out for him. It all just felt like he was trapped in an abyss of nothingness swallowing him whole.

        Everyone around him, despite the recent tragedy, seems to be swimming along merrily but Richie always feels like he's drowning and the thoughts in his head are dragging him deeper into the ocean. Nothing felt right, even if it was, Richie just saw something wrong with it and decided to blame himself for the imperfections.

        He glances at the clock, watching the small hand slowly tick to ten and he looks out the window seeing nothing but crushed blues and blacks in the sky with the smallest little specks snow trickling down in an unorganized fashion. He thinks about going out, maybe walk to the convenience store to try to get something to eat, even if it isn't much. He could sit down in the park until his hands get frostbite and his nose is as red as a cherry. But more importantly, he could go visit Eddie's grave, knowing deep down it made him feel a little better talking to him, whether he was listening or not because he needs to do something that will get him out of this dark state of  **depression.**

        Richie thrusts himself out of bed and grabs the plate with him, throwing the untouched food in his garbage where an alarming amount of previous dinners were also sitting. He finds his way to his drawers, grabbing sweatpants and a sweater as he builds the confidence to go out at night.

        He reminds himself that his parents are in their room, either asleep or having a conversation, and lightens his steps across the hall and down the stairs. Suddenly he halts to a stop and turns to his father's office. He then changes his direction and walks into the forbidden area, remembering the lighter Wentworth took away from him when he asked Richie what he was going to do with it and got a distasteful answer.

_"I was planning on lighting myself on fire dad, no worries."_

        Richie opens the second drawer to find the jet black lighter with a stick of orange and yellow flames placed over the Zippo logo. He shoves it into his pocket and closes the drawer before walking over to the front door. Reminding himself about the snowfall, he takes a puffy coat, along with a hat and gloves, finishing it off with a normal pair of sneakers instead of snow boots. It wasn't like the snow would up go to his ankles, he knows he's fine. Totally  _fine_.

        With one last glance behind him, he unlocks the door and is met with a cold breeze that grazes his exposed skin, causing the hairs on top of it to stand up like blades of grass in a field.

▼▼▼

          It kills Richie to know he's getting used to the gates of Derry Cemetery, but he thinks it makes sense that he's familiar with such a grim and depressing place since it's the state his mind wants him to be in. Any emotion other than empty isn't invited and won't be for a long time.

          The same buzzing sound emerges, vibrating Richie's body with anxiety as he takes his steps into the hills of graves. He grabs the pack of cigarettes and takes one out of the fresh pack, fishing out his lighter as well. A spark ignites his face and Richie brings the lit fire towards his mouth where the cigarette sits in between his lips. He starts breathing the smoke in when he witnesses the end of the cigarette of glowing a fiery orange and immediately starts coughing at the disgusting substances that enter his lungs.

          He follows the path to Eddie's resting place, his mind urging him to just turn around and sulk, but his legs disobeying because of them just being drawn to Eddie. As Richie gets closer, he makes out the shape of a figure sitting in front of the dull gray tombstone, sucking in another breath of smoke from the cigarette between his fingers and coughing it out once again. The person seems to be wearing a large black parka with the hood over their head, preventing Richie from finding out who it is. He continues to walk towards the person and watches them tense up. He assumes they were alerted of his presence by the sound of Richie's sneaker crushing the snow beneath it.

          A dark-skinned hand moves the fur on the rim of their hood out of the way as the person turns to face Richie. The boy widens his eyes at the sight of the friend he hasn't seen in weeks, his unfinished cancer stick falling to the ground.

          "Mike?" Richie says, causing the outsider to lower his head down and nod shyly. It kind of feels surreal to see Mike, sitting down in front of him. He's been wanting to talk to the dark-skinned boy for a while now, but every time he thought of Mike, he thought of Eddie.

          "Hey, Rich." Mike croaks, turning back to the tombstone. Richie sits down next to Mike, folding his hands on his lap, trying to find the words that will spark up a conversation.

         "Where have you been?" He asks, keeping his eyes on his boyfriend's full name.

        "At home. Here." Mike answers, shrugging.

        "Here?"

        "I've come here every night."

        Richie looks to Mike with a weak surprised look on his face. He wasn't expecting anyone to be coming here on such a frequent basis. Not even Eddie's mother could have the strength to do something like that.

        He stays silent, his mind blanks on the words he could say to continue the conversation. Richie definitely wasn't even in the right mind to make somebody else feel better, he needed the help too. But it surprised him to realize, for once in his life, he had no words and absolutely no idea what to say.

        "Y'know—" Mike speaks up, directing Richie's head over. "—I remember the day you asked Eddie out. He looked like a kid on Christmas when he came to my house."

        Richie blushes and looks down, thinking back to the day he managed to ask Eddie to get milkshakes with him at the diner. He remembers rubbing his hands every ten seconds because of how sweaty they were. He remembers tripping over his words as Eddie's smile grew wider in realization to what Richie was asking him. He remembers handing Eddie one lone tulip he picked off his neighbors garden, unable to find the money to go to the flower shop. It was one of his very cringe-worthy but favourite memories of him and Eddie.

        "He kept asking me what he should wear, if he should get you something, what would he say. It was so much to hear, I told him to shut up and that everything would be fine." Mike continues. "It was kind of annoying to hear him gush about you for hours. You were his favourite thing to talk about."

        Richie's eyes trail over to Mike's thin-lipped smile that looked like he was really trying hard to do so. He automatically relates to the farm boy, who seems to be trying his best to look fine. Everyone else didn't mind showing how broken they were about Eddie's death, but Richie felt like he was the only one who refused to show how sad he really was. It killed him to know he was the lone wolf, using the mechanism to push himself along but he's finally found someone else.

        "Sometimes I'd plead for him to stop talking about you because it had been a whole hour. Of course, since he cared, he stopped but he'd always seem a little down. Yeah, I'd cheer him up or reluctantly ask him to continue about you, but now? I regret ever telling him to stop talking about you." Mike sniffs. "If it meant he'd be standing here in front of me and our only conversations would be about you, I'd take it."

        Richie turns to the right of him when he hears loud crunches of snow, watching Eddie approach the two distressed boys. He can see the sadness in the small boy's eyes at the sight of Mike trying his best to wipe the tears that threaten to fall down his face.

        It kind of surprises Richie to see him here. All the anger he had for Eddie had washed away, and he's glad it isn't there anymore. He's actually relieved to see Eddie here, concluding that maybe his mind is warming up to him once again.

        "Hug him, Rich." Eddie instructs, sinking his hands in his pockets and stopping in front of the grave. Richie furrows his eyebrows, unable to comprehend the words his figment of imagination just said.

        "Sometimes all someone needs is a hug." Eddie weakly smiles, his eyes watering when he looks to Mike. "Hug him."

         Richie turns back to Mike who does his damnedest to hide the fact he's crying. He knows at this point that hiding emotions won't do anyone any good, and listens to Eddie's advice. Hesitantly, his arms wrap around Mike, making the boy tense up in response. He then immediately softens, burying his head into Richie's neck and reluctantly letting his sobs out.

        For once, Richie doesn't cry, being fresh out of tears from this week on its own. It wasn't even about him anyway, this time was for Mike and Mike alone. He pulls the boy in closer, smoothing his back softly as Mike chokes on his sobs. It's pretty obvious to Richie that this is one of the first times Mike had ever cried in front of somebody and a small flutter flourishes in his stomach, happy that he was the one to comfort him during it.

        Richie turns back to Eddie who smiles sincerely, nodding respectfully. The raven-haired boy nods back, mouthing 'thank you.' Eddie furrows his eyebrows at Richie's gratitude, genuinely confused as to what he did for him to say that.

        'For everything,' he elaborates. Eddie smile widens, reminding Richie of the time he asked the small boy out. Once again, the resemblance is uncanny but Richie's not mad this time, instead, he's content.

        He'd never thought he'd be able to feel happy but he does.


	8. ↣ flashback #4 ↢

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gone.

_Richie turns the final page of The Alchemist, tapping his his dry tongue in amazement due to the amount of sentences he was able to communicate in the mere number of hours he had. The book wasn't an immediate favorite of his but Mike and Eddie loved the story and Richie would always come up with wacky accents for each of the characters, making the overall narrative much more vibrant and interesting._

_He places the book down next to where Eddie's small hand lazily lied, the bones inside sticking out more than they had when he started chemotherapy a month ago. Richie wasn't surprised to see how weak Eddie looked like when he showed up, having visited the day before and before and before. He found it weird to get used to seeing how there wasn't any strands of hair on the small boy's head anymore, but it just got normal to him._

_"I can't believe I'm saying this, but your impressions are getting better Rich." Mike chuckles, shaking his head. A small smile appears on the raven-haired boy's lips, appreciating Mike's notice on his improvement on the various voices. He would always practice them whenever he watched a movie, repeating the lines a character had said in a dramatic manor. There was no definitive way he knew how to practice them but mimicking others felt like the best option._

_"Don't encourage him, Mike." Eddie says, eyes barely open. His raspy voice tells him that he needs water again despite having a drink just minutes before. It feels as if as soon as the water escapes his esophagus, the liquid would just disappear from existence and he'd stay dehydrated. Eddie knew it was the chemo but it was frustrating feeling this everyday._

_"C'mon Eddie Spaghetti! You can't lie that you love my Irish Cop." Richie says, pinching the small boy's cheeks like a grandma would to their grandchild._

_Eddie laughs, swatting away Richie's lanky fingers from his face and manages to choke out a "Beep Beep Richie" before breaking into a fit of coughs. The two boys' smiles quickly vanish, a worrying look flashed upon their faces as the watch Eddie grab the styrofoam cup of water from the table once again._

_"I'm fi—" He clears his throat. "I'm fine, guys."_

_Mike and Richie give hesitating nods, crushed by the boulder of harsh reality which tells them that Eddie is still sick and will continue to be as long as those cancer cells eat away at his body. It was always nice to pretend that this was just a fantasy, and the brown-haired boy was only in the hospital because of his overprotective mother but no. No, Eddie has cancer and they can't change it._

_To break the awkward tension, Richie stands up and looks towards his two friends. "I'm going to get a coffee. Do you guys need anything?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck._

_"I'll have coffee as well." Mike says, a faint smile on his lips. Eddie shakes his head, the smiling expression not reaching his tired eyes. The raven-haired boy walks out of the hospital room, leaving Eddie and Mike with their thoughts._

_Eddie knows the chemo isn't working, in fact it's making his body worse and worse everyday. Only the doctors and him were the ones with this information, the boy asking that they not tell anyone about it, not even his mother. His stomach flips at the thought of the treatment destroying more of the healthy than cancer cells and his body finally giving out, accepting death. Eddie shivers._

_"Do you need another blanket?" Mike asks, watching the goosebumps appear on Eddie's thin skin._

_"No-uh, I'm fine. I just—" He pauses. "Mike I need to tell you something."_

_Mike feels a series of nerves shoot through his body, sitting more upright when he notices Eddie's concerning features. He silently pleads it's not bad news, he can't take anymore of it._

_"Yeah sure," he replied calmly. For a second, the only sound is the whirring fan above them. It's uncomfortable and awkward. Eddie can't think straight with it on, but maybe he's using it to prevent himself from telling Mike the truth about his treatment._

_Eddie looks down at his fingers. "The chemotherapy isn't working." he mumbles._

_Mike freezes, and leans in closer to get a better sound because what he heard doesn't seem right to him. He desperately doesn't want it to seem right. "What?"_

_The small boy musters the courage to look at his best friend, fresh tears forming in his eyes at the surprised expression in front of him. He desperately doesn't want to repeat it because the more he does, the more real it seems. But he does._

_"The chemotherapy isn't working." Eddie repeats, running his hand over his nose. He watches Mike lean back in utter shock and confusion, trying to comprehend what that sentence meant._

_"You can't—you can't find anything else that might work?" Mike says, trying to stay cool. He's supposed to be the anchor for everybody else, breaking that chain wasn't an option for him._

_"They said they'll keep giving it to me, but there's a risk that I might—" Eddie stops, wiping a fallen tear that rests on his cheek. He didn't think he'd feel the weight of all this until this very moment. He might actually die from this. Be buried six feet under with nothing in his sight._

_His heart rate picks up a little as his lungs grasp for oxygen, knowing he eventually won't need it anymore. It's quite depressing to think about how everyone will react to him gone. How will the losers feel? How will his mother feel?_

_How will Richie feel?_

_"You might what? Die?" Mike questions, making Eddie flinch at the mention of such a morbid word. But it's true, it's absolutely true._

_The silence answers Mike's question, placing his hand on his forehead. He feels sick to his stomach, a uneasy feeling building up inside it. He desperately wants to wake up from this, it feels too dramatic to be real yet it is. It makes no goddamn sense._

_His eyes burn and water faster than he can comprehend, tears already falling down his dark-skinned cheeks like their running a marathon and want to be the first one down to the finish line._

_"As long as I stay active, then I'll be fine." Eddie reasons, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Just promise me one thing."_

_Mike looks up, lips quivering and eyes puffy. "Yeah?" He shudders._

_"Take care of Richie for me? If... if it happens."_

_A small, short-lived smile appears on the outsider's lips, amazed that even after all of this, Eddie continues to care about the annoying trashmouth. There will never be a day he won't bring him up in conversation, and sadly it might not change anytime soon._

_"I'll try."_

_"But take care of yourself first." Eddie adds on._

_Now that will be the challenge. Mike spends so much time making sure others are okay, he doesn't really know how to take care of himself. It's definitely going to be challenge to make sure he's thinking about his own well-being before aiding to someone else._

_The two had decided to keep this from Richie, since Eddie could barely look at Mike when he told him about it, so telling Richie would probably kill him before the cancer and chemo does._

_He just decided to pretend everything was okay, spending his time with the losers, going on dates with Richie, having conversations with Mike. All he could do was make the most of the short time he had. If he wasn't allowed to have a full life, then he would at least do something with what he got now._

_Eddie did his best to smile, and talk and breathe. Even when he spent days in the hospital he stayed happy, especially when someone like Beverly or Stan came to visit with yet another set of flowers or stuffed animals. They'd talk for hours with him until visiting hours were over, even taking the liberty to argue with the nurse when they were asked to leave. Yeah, it was embarrassing but it showed they cared._

_He appreciated his alone time with Richie, whether it was watching a movie or just talking about the randomest shit. He remembers having a conversation about what colour they'd dye their hair if they were allowed to. Richie had said purple and Eddie had said blue, but that's only because it was the first thing that came to his mind._

_It felt like the past two months went by in a blur but Eddie kept his memories in check, making sure to think about it whenever death wanted to creep into his brain._

_Unfortunately death took over more than his mind, and Eddie unfortunately died with Richie sleeping right beside him on the last day of fall in October. It was quite ironic to see such beautiful snowfall on the day of Eddie's death, so much so Richie was excited to see it that he was shaking Eddie awake only to find out he wasn't going to._

_"Eddie." Richie whispers, his voice cracking as he tries to shake his boyfriend awake. He isn't ready for it to happen yet, he hopes Eddie is just telling some sick joke to get back at him. Richie doesn't want it to be real._

_Yet it is._


	9. ↝ stage 5 ↜

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acceptance

 

        Richie didn't think he would be able to do it. Something that felt like such a feat to accomplish but he overcame it. He feels every part of his body personally thank him as he takes a deep breath and relax his shoulders, watching his friend effectively plow the snow off his front driveway.

        Richie had finally finished his second sandwich.

        It may seem like something that's not worth celebrating but for the raven-haired boy, it's like winning the gold at the olympic games. For the past two weeks, Mike had been urging his friend to eat as much as he could, upholding the promise he kept to his late friend. It was hard for the first few days with Richie constantly saying the food tasted, quote on quote: "like someone mixed plastic and food colouring together, then decided to call it food."

        He said this for everything Mike had tried to give him but the dark-skinned boy refused to give up.

        Everyday, he'd go to the Tozier household to wake Richie up, take him on a walk to observe the beautiful snowfall and go to the twenty-four hour diner to eat breakfast. It was difficult at first, Richie's mind always flashing back to the day he tried to shake his boyfriend awake to see the snowfall only to find out he wasn't going to, but luckily, it started to fade with time. He appreciated the things Mike would do for him, even if he didn't want him to, it helped in the long run.

        However, he finally tasted something other than cheap plastic. The grainy texture of the bread, the perfectly seasoned chicken, the crunchy lettuce, and the soft caesar dressing, it all blessed his tongue in an explosion of flavour. He genuinely thought he would never be able to taste again but of course it's the homemade shit that does the trick.

        "Hey Hanlon!" Richie calls from the front porch, alerting the hardworking boy who pushes the snowblower across the driveway, dressed in a puffy blue coat and black snow pants to prevent his jeans from getting wet while a knitted hat rests on his head.

        "Yeah?" He questions, abruptly stopping the machine and turning to his friend, leaning on the handle.

        "You got another one of these sandwiches?" Richie asks, tapping on the empty plate next to him. His index finger swipes the leftover dressing on it, sliding it against his tongue to savour the taste. Yup, the flavour is still there and it's amazing.

        The Hanlon boy perks up, amazed that he's finally found something that Richie actually likes but soon slouches when realizing, "You ate my sandwich, trashmouth?"

        Richie's lips contort into an apologetic smile, taking his finger out of his mouth and wiping it with his other hand. "Sorry?"

        Mike sighs but fails to hide the smirk that creeps up on him and turns off the snowblower, walking over to the porch where his lanky friend sits in a large black parka with a beanie covering his jet black curls. He harshly grabs the plate in playful anger while Richie gives him a cheeky grin. "Thanks Mikey."

        "Yeah whatever," He grumbles, opening the front door with his elbow, stomping the snow off his boots on the 'welcome' mat before he walks in. Richie then quickly grabs his friends gloved hand, sending a genuine "Thanks," his way. Mike chuckles and shakes his head and replies with "Anything for a friend."

        Richie lets go and looks out to field, finding no force in his smile. It's unreal to think about it but he has no problem with it anymore. That means it's getting easier, it's not easy, he knows he nowhere close to that but it is getting easier. He's learned that Eddie is still lingering around him wherever he goes, even if he can't see him, he's there. Maybe that's what he's been missing for the past month, a sense of awareness. Pushing away everyone wasn't going to help him, the help of Mike taught him that, all he needed was someone to talk to and it could've been anyone. His parents, the losers, even Eddie.

        "I'm glad you think that way." A voice speaks next to him. Richie chuckles and leans back in his seat, turning his head to see his boyfriend in a bright red coat with brown fur along the lining of the hood. He looked adorable, Richie couldn't deny it.

        "Hello to you too," Richie greets. "I thought you would stop showing up."

        "You needed to be with someone that wasn't me." Eddie shrugs and shifts his position so he's facing the raven-haired boy.

        Richie nods and tilts his head back, letting out a deep sigh. It's definitely been such a long month, it feels like Eddie had passed a year ago. If he's being honest, he thought this funk he's been in would last significantly longer. Maybe if he didn't have the losers open his eyes as to how much of a prick he was being and Mike didn't do all the things he did for the past week, he would still be in his bedroom, crying himself to sleep. He really doesn't deserve his friends.

        "I guess that means you don't need me anymore." Eddie says, causing the other boy to tilt his head back up again and observes his weak smile. Richie furrows his eyebrows.

        "What do you mean?"

        "This is your last stage." Eddie elaborates though Richie's expression stays the same.

        "Stage?—"

        "Stage of grief," Eddie finishes, making him tilt his head. Richie knows about the stages of grief but he didn't consider the fact he was going through each one during the course of his mourning. However, the more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense to him. From refusing to believe Eddie's death, to basically getting mad at everyone for it, to trading his life in return of Eddie's, to going to the darkest places of his mind to, finally, a sense of calmness. He's in **_acceptance_**.

        "So you realize it now?" Eddie questions, crossing his fingers together and setting them on his lap. Richie doesn't need to take the time to wonder how he knows his thought process and instead turns his chair towards his figment of imagination.

        "So that's why--"

        "I never got angry with you, or impatient. You don't think I know Eddie wouldn't have told you off if you ever decided to talk to him like that? He would've yelled at you like no tomorrow, probably wouldn't even give you a chance to speak until you heard his side of the argument, and only then would he listen. I knew I had to be calm because those were just phases you were going through, it wasn't the real you." Eddie explains.

        Richie's mouth gapes open in realization of all the words that came out of the smaller male's mouth but most importantly, he didn't refer to speak in first person, he referred to Eddie. The real Eddie. He feels his eyes dry and water as he looks to his imagination in pure awe. Richie could kiss him right now.

        "So you knew all this time?" Richie asks, earning a nod in response. He leans back in amazement before turning to Eddie, breathing out "Thank you."

        "It wasn't me, really. It was you, I'm only inside your mind," Eddie says "I could've been anybody really. But now, you don't need me anymore. Part of acceptance is letting go, and you can't do that while I'm here."

        Richie's heart drops at those words. All this time, he's been waiting for the day this figment of his would finally disappear, where he could finally be alone with his dark thoughts but now that it's come and Richie is relatively alright... he doesn't want him to leave. He's just grown attached to this person, him being the only thing that allowed Richie to grasp at a conversation with Eddie. At the same time, however, he knows he is right and he'll try to hold on to him forever if he doesn't leave no matter how much he wants him to stay.

        "Guess it's goodbye then." Richie sighs, sticking out his hand. He has to accept it no matter how much it hurts, just like his death.

        Eddie furrows his eyebrows. "You do know I can't actually touch you right?"

        "Right," Richie retracts his hand and scratches his neck, chuckling softly. Eddie smiles nonetheless and leans in, pressing his lips to Richie's cheek. It feels cold and ghostly but it still warms the boy's heart, a dorky lopsided smile playing on his lips.

        "Bye Chee."

        A creaking door snaps Richie's attention to it, revealing Mike holding a plate of four sandwiches stacked on top one another. He sets the food on the table next to a now empty chair and sits where Eddie once was, taking off his waterproof gloves. Richie lips curl down at the realization but he knows now that it's for the best, and he'll be fine, for now at least.

                    ▼▼▼

        Walking over to the bike rack, Richie slides his sweaty palms down his backpack straps, getting ready to apologize to his friends. He knows it's something he should've done awhile ago but he didn't know what to say. Even on the days when he did come to school, he avoided them and they knew better than to provoke him further so they left him alone. But now he knows he needs them more than anything right now so he's ready to say it, even if they don't forgive him immediately.

        "Hey guys," Richie greets, stopping their little conversation to turn to him. Luckily he sees no angered or pitiful faces, he just sees people who want to reconnect with their lost friend. A collective group of "Heys," are said back, relaxing the raven-haired boy a little more.

        "Listen, I'm not going to bullshit this. I'm sorry for taking my anger out on you guys and avoiding you after. It was a dick move." He says, looking down and sliding his foot back and forth to ground himself on the concrete.

        "Yeah it was." Stanley says firmly, causing Ben to nudge his shoulder. "But we're sorry too," Stan finishes.

        Richie's furrows his eyebrows, surprised. "For what?"

        "For not understanding that you were just angry. We see it now." Beverly explains, causing Stan to nod in response, seemingly having the same reasonings as her.

        "But I shouldn't have brought onto you," Richie counters.

        "And it hurt, but we shouldn't have left you alone." Bill cuts in, stutter-free. "Everyone is at fault here."

        Richie nods, a faint smile on his lips. He should've known that the losers are one of the most forgiving people on the planet, there's really no contest.

        "So you forgive me?" He questions, already knowing the answer.

        "No dipshit, we're ignoring you forever now." Stan replies sarcastically, causing the group to chuckle, including Richie. He missed this. He missed the rest of his friends.

        "You guys know what I'm feeling? Hot chocolate, my fingers are freezing." Ben speaks up, the biggest smile on his lips, something Richie knows he hasn't been doing in a while. The raven-haired boy smiles and wraps an arm around his shorter friend's shoulder, nodding in response.

        "Same haystack. Whatdaya say we go over to tha Hanlon household and ring up ol' Mikey ay?" Richie asks in his best attempt at being southern. And yes, it still absolutely fucking sucks.

        "You've been talking to Mike?" Beverly questions, grabbing Ben's hand to keep hers warm.

        "Yeah. He's been wanting to talk to you guys, he just didn't know how." Richie elaborates.

        "Well what better way to talk to him other than just g-guh-going over to his place?" Bill states, earning disorganized shrugs in response.

        Richie smiles and turns his head to see a small figure looking his way with a gentle smile on his face. He sends a little wave, causing the raven-haired boy to do the same back before turning back to his friends, reminding himself that he's going to be fine.

It'll all be fine.

 

**FIN.**


End file.
